Two Brothers
by Starpatchy
Summary: "Jake took his hand, grinning. 'Brothers' 'Brothers," Elwood affirmed." A look into the childhood of Jake and Elwood, who grew up together and learned to become brothers.


Jake was five the first time he met Elwood. He'd been living with a foster family for the past three years, and neither remembered Elwood's first night at the orphanage, when he'd slept in Jake's crib when the two were so small. He'd returned from the family only a few days ago after he'd caused too much trouble, and the young boy appeared cheerful as ever. Of course, the nuns had given him a firm chastising for his behaviors, although the boy hadn't seemed to listen at all.

It was just after lunch, when the children all went outside to play. Four and a half year old Elwood slipped outside, a piece of white bread in his hands. He was silent as usual, and carefully moved past the other kids to go to his personal place of solitude and peace, on the backside of the orphanage building. Although he was stealthy in his movements, one pair of brown eyes had seen him.

Jake was quick to go after the young boy of who he didn't know the name, curious as to what he was doing. The resident troublemaker silently wished it was something fun and mischievous. What else would that kid be doing sneaking around like that anyway?

Upon following the boy back past the building, he almost lost track of him. It was only when he heard the sound of old door hinges creaking that he was able to figure out his whereabouts. The boy had weaseled his way through one of the back doors into the orphanage again. The door was open a crack still, and Jake squeezed his way through after. He descended down a dimly lit metal staircase, making an attempt to keep quiet. As hard as he may try, the stairs beneath him creaked and clanged as his feet came down on them, painfully loud. Whoever was down here definitely knew he was coming.

As he finished his descent down the stairs, he was met with two curious stares. One belonged to a tall African-American man, dressed in black. He had a thin black tie, dark sunglasses over his eyes, and a black fedora perched upon his head. Jake recognized him as the janitor, although he'd never spoke to him before. Right beside the man was the little kid Jake had seen earlier. He was a small kid, thin and lanky. He looked completely and utterly innocent, blinking a few times at him.

"Come on down, son," the man said, his voice sounding rough, yet inviting. "What's your name then?"

Jake took a few steps forward, slightly weary. "Jake...Jake Papageorge," he replied softly.

From then on, Jake and the other boy came down to the basement every day, where the janitor named Curtis stayed. The older man introduced Jake to music. Not the cheap choir music the kids sang in church every Sunday, but _real_ music. John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Elmore James, all the great legends of rhythm and blues. It was the first time Jake had heard any of it and he thought it was simply amazing. Each song coursed through his veins, dove into his very soul to soothe him. Every word, every note, was simple perfection.

In the past, Jake had aspirations to become a businessman. Those dreams quickly flew out the window when the blues came into his life. Now he wanted to have his own blues band. He wanted to tour the world, singing and dancing.

After a few weeks with Curtis, Jake was knowledgeable in blues. He knew the old legends and a bit about the actual music itself. Of course, Curtis had plans to teach both boys more about phrasing and keys later on, when they could understand better.

Although even after all his time down in the basement, Jake still did not know the name of the silent boy who came down each day before him. He never said _anything_ , only sat and listened intently to what Curtis had to say. Jake had tried to figure out his name, even asking him personally a few times. He never answered. Was he mute or something?

It was shortly after Jake had turned six that he finally became acquaintances with the boy. He didn't show up in the basement that day, but Curtis hadn't said anything about it. Instead, he'd simply continued his lesson about rhythms with the six year old.

After they'd finished, Jake retreated to his room to get changed before dinner and prayer. Previously, he'd shared his room with four other boys about his age, but one of them had just been adopted, leaving the room with more space. Not that any of its inhabitants were complaining.

He arrived to find the room empty and quiet. Well, he thought it was empty until he'd looked into the far corner, where the previously empty bed sat. But this time the bed was not empty. A small form sat cross-legged atop the blankets, head craned as they looked down at something on the bed. It was not until the boy lifted his head that Jake recognized him. It was the boy from the basement! When had he moved in here?

The 6 year went to his own bed, which was right next to the other boy's and sat down. He craned his neck to see what the boy was reading, and got a glimpse of a magazine with cars. The one on the page was red, and pretty cool looking.

"Hi," Jake said softly, looking at the boy's face. He'd tried to talk to the kid before without any results, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to try again.

No response.

Jake frowned. "What're you reading there?"

The boy looked at him for only a moment. In the brighter light, Jake could see the boy had two different colored eyes. The right eye was an intense shade of green, while the other was a soft brown. That was so cool! He'd never been able to see it before in the lighting of the basement.

"What's your name, kid?"

The boy looked back to his magazine and turned the page, and Jake couldn't tell if he was just ignoring him or couldn't hear him. He bit back a frustrated sigh.

"My name's Jake."

The kid still didn't say anything, but this time he looked up at Jake and kept his multicolored eyes on him instead of the cars in the magazine. He looked as though he might be thinking about talking, but never did.

"Guess I'll see you later then."

Jake left for dinner, grabbing his clothes and changing before he did. He saw the boy at dinner, but he was on the other side of the table so they didn't talk.

The next time he saw the boy was before lights out, when all the boys had bathed, changed into pajamas, and brushed their teeth. He was sitting on his bed again, looking at the car magazine.

Jake walked up beside his bed, peering down at the picture of a blue Jaguar XK120.

"You sure do like cars, don't you, Motorhead?" Jake asked the kid, who just looked up at him and nodded his head.

This was the closest thing to speech Jake had gotten from the boy so far, and feeling rather accomplished, climbed into bed and went to sleep without his prayer.

For the next few weeks, Jake spent more time with the kid, who he had fondly named Motorhead. When they weren't down in the basement with Curtis, he and the boy would venture out towards the road to watch the cars go by. But Motorhead never did speak, only watching with his curious multicolored eyes.

Jake learned early on that Motorhead could hear perfectly well, and had quite the ear for music. He had an old secondhand Special 20 that kept under his pillow, and brought with him everywhere he went. He kept it in good shape, cleaning it and caring for it with the utmost delicacy. It was obvious it was one of his most prized possessions.

Jake had never actually heard the kid play until one afternoon in the basement, when he had pulled it from his back pocket, the metal glinting in the light, and Curtis had encouraged him to play something. He was incredibly talented, having the natural skill for it.

One day, as they sat watching the cars go by, Motorhead clutched the silver instrument in his hands. Jake sat beside him like they always did.

"You're real good at that," he said softly, looking down at his younger friend.

Motorhead looked up at him, blinking once with his multicolored eyes. His lips turned upward in a little smile.

Jake didn't need any words from the kid to know he appreciated the praise. Over the months they'd known each other, the youngest had come to look up to him. Their bond was more like that of an older brother and a younger brother than that of two boys who lived in the same orphanage. It was true, Jake saw Motorhead as his little brother, and he was absolutely fine with that.

"We should start a band," Jake commented, still watching the cars pass.

Motorhead cocked his head in confusion, shifting his gaze to Jake.

A chuckle escaped the older boy's lips. "Oh, c'mon! You could play harp and I could sing!"

Motorhead crinkled his nose, looking down at the ground as though he was thinking about it. Then he shrugged a slim shoulder and looked back to the road, watching the cars go by intently.

Jake never found out Motorhead's real name until the youngest of the duo turned six. It was too cold outside to watch the cars by the road, so the two opted to stay inside and practice their musical skills. They'd rushed down to the basement to be with Curtis, nearly tripping over themselves and each other.

"Curtis! Curtis!" Jake shouted, excitement evident in his face and in his voice. "You gotta listen to what Motorhead came up with! It's amazing!"

The shy, awkward boy stepped forward, bright eyes looking up at his two role models as he pulled his harp from his back pocket. He brought the instrument to his lips and launched into a bluesy solo, each note hitting exactly the right pitch. He got every glissando and every bend, every accent and every dynamic sounding absolutely perfect. The music drifting from those reeds was the kind that made shivers run down Jake's spine. There was true soul in it. When finished, his dropped his hands, his lips twitching up into a smile.

"That was _fantastic_ ," Curtis emphasized, clearly impressed by the young boy's skills.

Jake's proud grin grew a little wider. "You're amazing at that, Motorhead."

The smallest ducked his head, cheeks flushing red. His surrogate older brother's praise was all he worked for, and he was bursting with joy to see how talented Curtis and Jake thought he was.

"Elwood," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Both Jake and Curtis stopped, in disbelief. Neither had ever heard the kid talk, and for a moment they thought they might just be hearing things. But then Motorhead looked up, a little smile still on his lips. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Elwood," he repeated, this time a little louder.

"What?" Jake trailed off, peering curiously at the younger boy.

There was a few moments of hesitation, the shy boy scratching at his arm before speaking again. "My name's Elwood." He looked down to the floor.

"Elwood?" Jake repeated back. He grinned at the younger boy. "That's a way cool name!"

Elwood looked up, multicolored eyes widening. It took him a second, but he started to smile back at Jake.

From that point on, Jake was meticulous in calling Elwood by his given name. The boy seemed happy with it too, although sometimes he didn't respond right away seeing as Jake had been calling him Motorhead for so long.

It all happened in a short period of time, but Jake discovered a significant amount about the boy that had become his best friend. He learned that Elwood had been abandoned when he was three days old at a newspaper stand. And soon, once summertime rolled around and school was out, he learned that Elwood had a major fear of the thunder and lightning.

In the heat of a July night, the pitter patter of raindrops on the windowsill was not uncommon. But on this particular night, said pitter patter became a driving rain, pelting the window. In the darkness of the night, a flash of lightning lit up the room where Jake and Elwood had their beds. It was the solid clap of thunder in the distance that woke little Elwood. The small boy whimpered and covered his head with the covers. Another flash of lightning lit up the room. The next clap of thunder that came was louder than the last, making the small boy jump in fear. His lower lip began to tremble, his heart racing in his tiny body. As another loud boom resounded through the orphanage, tears began to fall as he bit back his sobs.

In the bed beside him, Elwood's suppressed cries had woken Jake. Hearing his surrogate's brothers sniffling and whimpering, he crawled out of bed and silently engulfed the smaller boy in his arms. He held the shaking boy in his arms until the storm eventually passed by, and even then, he didn't leave Elwood alone. The two fell asleep still curled up together.

When Jake was ten and Elwood was nine, they scrambled up the stairs to Sister Mary's office. They had an extremely important matter to discuss with the nun. They'd been talking about it for weeks now, and they had finally decided it was what they wanted to do.

Jake lightly rapped on the wooden door with his knuckles.

The Sister's voice came from the other side, harsh. "Who is it?"

"Jake and Elwood," he replied, glancing back at his cohort.

"Come in."

The door creaked open to reveal Sister Mary, at her desk, dressed in her black and white robes. Jake always called her the Penguin, saying all she needed was to start waddling around. Elwood always got a real kick out of it, and had to hold back sudden laughter as they entered.

The two boys sat at the student desks the Penguin kept in front of her own. Elwood was quiet, folding his hands and placing them atop the desk. Jake was supposed to do the talking.

"What can I help you boys with?" The nun looked between the two of them, perhaps a little suspiciously.

Jake grinned. "Well, you see, Sister, we're here to talk to you because we wanna switch our last names."

The nun looked surprised. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"You see, me and Elwood just got a lot of trouble spelling our names, so we figured we'd just switch 'em to somethin' easier," Jake explained, nodding as he spoke.

The Sister looked to Elwood, eyes narrowed. "Is this true, Elwood?"

"Uh...yes ma'am." The younger boy nodded his head vigorously.

A sigh fell from the Penguin's lips. "Jake, I can see the difficulty spelling Papageorge, but Delaney?" She aimed the second part of this towards Elwood.

The boy shrunk back a bit, blinking up at the nun. In all honesty, he found her a bit intimidating. And after using her ruler on him a few times, he felt he had the right to be scared.

"Um…" he looked desperately between Jake and the nun, searching for something to say.

Jake was quick to step in for him, that stupid charming smile on his face. "We wanna change our last name to Blues," he told her.

The Penguin's attention shifted back to Jake, and she couldn't help but smile at the boy. She knew of their devotion to music, about how they were forming their own band with a few of the kids from school. Although she'd prefer they stuck to choir song, she supposed a band was a lot less trouble than a gang.

"Please," Elwood whispered weakly.

The nun looked between the two boys for a few moments, and then sighed. "I'll work on it," she said reluctantly.

Both boys jumped up excitedly, voicing their appreciation over and over again. She ushered them from her office and back down the stairs into the main hall. They were still grinning at each other as they left, and from that day on, everyone called them the Blues Brothers.

The Ravens had their first concert just a few days before the end of the school year. The boys had been telling everyone about their performance for weeks. They'd actually got quite the following of people their own age, as well as all the kids from the orphanage. They all met at the park nearest the orphanage and factory district. It wasn't the nicest place, but it would work just fine for the concert. The four boys that made up the band had set up their things as soon as school got out and warmed up for a half hour or so before kids started arriving.

Elwood had been slightly nervous for the occasion, as he was generally a ball of nerves and quite shy. But Jake had been making his brother practice playing and singing in front of all the kids at the orphanage, hoping to make him feel more confident. As far as he could tell, it was working well.

Once the whole crowd had arrived, Jake gave a quick introduction and they swung into the first tune. Each boy was pretty talented on their given instrument, especially Elwood, who had numerous solos throughout the day. The boys only knew ten songs, but each of those songs they could play very well, and they took pride in that.

As they finished their final rendition of "Rubber Biscuit," Jake looked over and gave Elwood a face-splitting grin. Elwood returned the smile, his multicolored eyes lighting up. It seemed the two had found their calling.

One night, Elwood was down in the basement with Curtis, working with his harp, when Jake practically tumbled down the stairs, clutching something in his hand. Elwood and Curtis had stopped, curious as to what the young boy had.

It was then Jake held up an "E' string, lips forming that stupid grin of his.

"What's that for, Jake?" Curtis asked.

"It's an E string," he told them. "And guess what?"

Elwood shrugged a slim shoulder.

"It's from Elmore James' guitar," Jake pronounced proudly, holding up the string a little higher.

Elwood jumped up from where he sat on one of the chairs, jaw dropping open. "No way!" He stared at the string in awe.

"Yes way," Jake replied, nodding his head.

Curtis watched from a few feet away, skeptical of this whole tale. Of course, he wouldn't tell the boys that. Their excitement at such a thing was good to watch, and he wouldn't dare crush their dreams.

The two boys sat down at the table across from each other. Jake still held the string while Elwood stared in awe.

"Give me your hand, El," Jake requested patiently.

Elwood gave the older boy his hand, watching as he held it and figured out where the best place to do this was. Once he'd figured it out, he took the string and pulled it tight on Elwood's palm, cutting the skin open. Droplets of red blood appeared on his skin. Jake did the same to himself, and then they took their hands and pressed them together. It stung a little, and Jake saw Elwood wince.

"We gotta let the blood mix up a little now," Jake informed him.

Elwood nodded in agreement, looking down at their hands. A little bit of blood had dripped onto the table.

While they waited for the blood to mix up, Curtis told them stories about his days as a blues musician, back when he was traveling the country with a band. The two boys listened intently.

After 30 or so minutes, they decided that the blood was probably mixed up enough and carefully pulled apart their hands. It hurt a little, and made their hands feel tingly.

Jake gave his younger brother a soft smile. "See, now we're blood brothers."

It was the 4th of July in Chicago, and as per usual, there was going to be a huge firework show down in Joliet. Last year, Jake, Elwood, and a few of the other boys had went down to the watertown to climb it and watch the fireworks from up high. This year, their plans were virtually the same...except for one added detail: paint. Of course, the other kids had bailed as soon as Jake had told them of his plans. Elwood hadn't even known until they were ten or so minutes from the water tower, and Jake was picking brushes and and cans from the bushes where he'd stored them the night before.

"Jake," Elwood chastised. "You know this isn't gonna end well."

Jake brushed it off. "C'mon, El, don't worry about it."

Although the feeling in his gut was telling him to turn and flee for home before his brother got them in serious trouble, his legs carried him towards the water tower, with "JOLIET" written in big black letters across the front. The sun was just starting to set, signaling they probably had an hour or so left until the fireworks started up.

The two boys took their time climbing the tower, careful not to spill the buckets of paint. When they did finally reach the top, the world was far below them and they were looking out at the very tail end of a beautiful sunset. In the distance, the skyscrapers of Chicago were faint silhouettes against the setting sun. Elwood found himself staring as the last of the sun disappeared behind the horizon, leaving them with only the left over light cast.

He was disrupted when Jake slapped him on the shoulder. "Let's get to work or else we're gonna run out of light." His older brother shoved a paint brush towards him.

Hesitantly, the ten year old took the brush and dipped it into the can of black paint. Then he stood on his tiptoes, stretching up his long arms to paint his name on the side of the tower. He'd been previously hesitant about the idea, but now he was really into it, grinning and laughing like his older brother.

It took the boys about 20 minutes. When each was finished, they stepped back and observed their work best they could from their position. The wet paint was dripping from their names, giving it an awfully messy appearance. Elwood liked it.

"Now everyone knows we own this town," Jake laughed.

The two exchanged a fist-bump before starting their descent down the tower. Once at the bottom, the two threw their cans and brushes into the nearby bushes. They took a few moments to try to rid their faces and hands of some of the black paint, but with no real luck. Laughing it off, they started back towards the orphanage, occasionally glancing over their shoulder at the water tower in the dark. They couldn't see their work enough to admire it, but they knew it was up there, and that was satisfying enough.

They'd been walking for a few minutes when they heard the sound of sirens in the distance. The wailing grew louder and louder until they found themselves in the ray of flashing blue and red lights. Panic set in, at least on Elwood's part, but Jake kept his cool.

An officer with a flashlight in hand climbed out of the car, moving towards them somewhat menacingly. "You boys headed home?"

"Yes sir," Jake replied, sounding innocent.

The officer gave him a suspicious look. "What's your name?"

Jake gave the officer one of his signature smiles. "Walter Horton."

The officer's gaze then shifted to Elwood, who stood a pace behind his older brother. "And who are you?"

The ten year defaulted to his oldest trick. He stayed silent, blinking up at the officer a few times.

"He's mute," Jake supplied, still smiling.

The officer looked between them suspiciously. "So neither of you knows a Jake or an Elwood?"

Both boys shook their heads simultaneously.

"So, can one of you explain the paint all over your hands and faces?"

Apparently, Jake hadn't thought about this factor. "Uh...what paint?"

Internally, Elwood face-palmed.

"Alright, let's go, you two," he said exasperatedly, ushering the two boys towards the police car.

"Nice going Jake!" Elwood hissed lowly to his brother. "The Penguin is gonna kill us!"

Jake just chuckled sheepishly and climbed into the backseat of the cruiser.

It was late August. After Jake and Elwood's run-in with the law on the 4th of July, the two had been kept on a tight leash with very little leniency. They weren't even allowed to go places unless they had an adult with them. Of course, Jake was 12 now and he thought it was the dumbest thing, which led his younger brother to believe the same. So they formed a plan to go out on their own and go to the nearby pool. The two boys often went there to steal things during the summer, since all the rich people left their things sitting out.

Surprisingly, they were able to get out of the orphanage easy. They used the old basement door that went out back, and no one even suspected they were gone.

They arrived at the pool a little while later, and started to snoop around for things they wanted. It was then that Elwood stumbled across a pair of black RB2132 Ray Ban Wayfarers. They made him stop short in his tracks, staring down at them where they sat on a poolside table. He looked around for a moment to make sure no one was watching, and then carefully took them from the table and bolted before anyone saw him.

He put them on that night, and stared at himself in the mirror for a while. It was odd, but for some reason he was particularly drawn to that pair of glasses. That style just screamed...blues to him.

He came back out to Jake, who lay on his bed. The sunglasses were still perched on his face.

"What're those for?" His older brother asked, peering up at him in confusion.

"I stole them today, at the pool," Elwood replied. "But I think we should wear them. Like, for the band."

Jake sat up, tilting his head to the side in obvious confusion. "Why?"

"Because they're...I don't know," he said softly. "I just think it's...us."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew he was so intent on wearing them because they covered his mismatched eyes. He hadn't told anyone, but he'd been getting picked on for his odd eyes for a while now. Maybe it would be easier to just cover them and try to forget they were even different in the first place.

Jake raised one eyebrow, but nodded his head. "Ok, El."

When they had finally made up their minds on what they wanted, Jake and Elwood snuck down to the nearest tattoo parlor to get their knuckles done. Each had decided on their own first name on their knuckles, and a cross for each between their index finger and thumb.

Entering the tattoo place, they looked out of place. Well, Elwood did. Jake was his usual confident self, sauntering right up to the counter and the man dressed in black that sat behind it. The boy slapped the money they'd stolen onto the counter, and the tattoo artist let out a little sigh and stood. He led the two boys into the back of the shop, where all the equipment sat. It made Elwood flinch, but Jake was not phased in the slightest.

"What do you want then?" The artist asked, monotone.

Jake hopped into the first chair, giving the man his signature smile. "Letters on the knuckles and a cross for each of us."

The tattoo artist looked between the two boys, almost exasperatedly. This dude must really hate his job. He took a seat and prepared the necessary tools for the job. Once he was grasping the pen in one hand and hovering it above Jake's hand, he stopped.

"What am I writing, kid?"

Jake showed him how he wanted his name written across his left knuckles, and the artist did what he was told. When finished with that, Jake showed where he wanted the cross and the three dots above it.

Through all of it, Elwood stood silently, watching as the ink was written on his brother's skin. He'd heard tattoos were incredibly painful, but he didn't see his older brother flinch even once. It was comforting, especially to he who was so nervous about getting the tattoos done.

When Jake was finished, he stood and showed the fresh ink to his younger brother while the tattoo artist stood behind, looking irritated.

"Go on," Jake nudged him towards the chair.

Hesitantly, he sat down and extended his right hand first. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell the artist what he wanted, but the words got caught in his throat.

Luckily, Jake was quick to see his troubles and step in. "He wants his name on his knuckles, like me. He's Elwood. Spelled E, L, W, O, O, D."

The tattoo artist nodded and prepared himself to spell out the name on the boy's knuckles. Elwood felt himself tense in anticipation. As the pen came down on his little finger, he jumped slightly.

Jake must have seen his reaction, because almost instantly he was by his brother's side, grasping his free hand.

Elwood didn't have any more trouble sitting through the rest of the tattoos. And when they were both done, they held their hands up to compare, grinning at each other from behind their dark shades.

When Jake turned 16, he and Elwood got their own room. The Penguin told them it was because they were the oldest two, but truly they believed it was because their foul mouths and bad attitudes were wearing off on the younger children. Of course, neither boy minded. More space was much needed.

It was late on a Saturday night, and both Elwood and Jake lay awake in their beds. They were waiting patiently for the stroke of midnight to roll around. The clock on their nightstand ticked, filling the otherwise silent night. It seemed as though the time ticked on forever. But finally it was 12, and both boys slipped silently out of bed. Each grabbed their sunglasses from the top of the dresser and slipped them on. Then they crept out the old back door.

In the quiet of the night, the engine of Curtis' car sounded painfully loud. It was Elwood behind the wheel, turning the key, shifting it into gear. For once, it had been Elwood's idea to sneak out during the night and do something utterly stupid and illegal. Obviously, Jake hadn't cared and was more than willing to tag along with his kid brother's antics.

"You ready?" Elwood asked softly, looking over at his brother. Even through the dark shades, Jake could see the glint of excitement in his multicolored eyes.

Jake grabbed onto the door. "Ready if you are, Motorhead."

Elwood's lips twitched into a grin as he slammed on the gas. There was the squealing of rubber as the car sped forward and Elwood just barely managed to avoid hitting the corner of the building. He turned around the corner and Jake could have sworn the car was only on two wheels.

"Oh my god!" Jake gasped. "Slow down, man!"

Elwood looked over at his brother, laughing. "You ok, Jake?"

"Just keep your eyes on the road!"

Even though Elwood's driving was more than a little manic, he was in full control of the car, steering it expertly around every bend. He was a total car nut, and apparently a real good driver too.

As his brother flew around the factory district at a thousand miles per hour, and Jake clung on for dear life, he was impressed at the driving skill. It was obvious to them both in this moment that Elwood would be the designated driver for their adventures to come.

When both boys finally turned 18 and moved out of the orphanage, they got an apartment together in Callumet City. It was cheap place, but it was plenty enough for two blues musicians looking to get a band together.

They spent their days practicing and talking of their plans for the band. It had been a dream for the both of them since they were young kids, and it was more than exciting to think that they had a real chance at such a thing.

It was a late November day when Jake and Elwood made a mutual promise to each other, sitting on the couch in their shared apartment.

They'd talked about their childhood, of all the things they'd done and all the things they'd seen and learned. They talked about Curtis and how they missed seeing him everyday. They even talked about missing the Penguin, although Jake was more hesitant on that subject.

Then Elwood brought up the topic that had been itching him since a few nights ago. Jake had met a girl at a bar, and as far as he knew they had talked since then. Maybe it was dumb, but he was insecure about the whole thing, afraid his brother may leave him for some pretty girl. The thought was oddly painful, causing him pain his chest.

The youngest brother looked down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. "Jake...you're not...you wouldn't leave me for a girl...would you?" His voice was weak as he asked the question.

Although he wasn't looking, he knew his brother was surprised by the question.

"Elwood, c'mon, you really think I'd do that?" Jake shrugged a shoulder and chuckled, though underneath his humor there was a hint of uncertainty.

"Well...it's just...you were with that girl and-"

Jake cut him off, holding up a hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

When Elwood remained silent, staring down at his hands, a kicked-puppy look on his features, Jake sighed. He loved his brother to death, but sometimes the younger man's insecurities were a real burden.

"Elwood, look at me," Jake commanded.

The tall man looked back up after a moment's hesitation, a pout on his face. Jake reached forward and carefully pulled the dark shades from his face, revealing Elwood's signature multicolored eyes. One green eye and one brown eye stared back at him, bright and mesmerizing. It had been years since he'd seen his younger brother's face, at least without the glasses. It was rare he saw Elwood without his hat either, but that was true for both Blues brothers. They'd adopted the look of a black suit, thin black tie, black fedora hat, and dark wayfarer sunglasses after they'd pulled together their band, The Blues Brothers. For them, it was a perfect picture of the style that was the blues. Besides, the audience loved it.

Elwood blinked once. Twice.

"Elwood, I promise I'm not going to leave you," Jake vowed, looking straight into his brother's mismatched eyes.

Elwood's big eyes stared up at him as he pulled his lower lip into his mouth, biting down softly. "Not even for a girl?"

"Not even for a girl," the older brother confirmed, nodding his head. "No chick can ever be as important as my little brother."

This seemed to satisfy Elwood, and his lips turned upward into a little smile. He held out his right hand, opening his palm as if waiting for a handshake.

Jake took his warm hand, grinning. "Brothers?"

"Brothers," Elwood affirmed.

"I love you, Motorhead."

"I love you too, Jake."


End file.
